The Next Great Adventure
by The Dirac
Summary: Do dragons cry? Or is it just the wetness spilling from his eyes? My first fanfic after an eternity of lurking. Rated T just for one very small scene in the story. Hope you like it, and remember to read and review!


**Disclaimer: I do not own HTTYD. Everything in the HTTYD universe belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell. (Sigh.) **

**On a side note, this is kind of my first fic (it probably shows), so I'd really appreciate any thoughts you guys have. Read and review!**

* * *

"Hiccup?"

In the darkness, a familiar voice calls out to him.

Odin's beard, it's difficult. He feels tired, so tired it's seeped into his bones. Every little movement brings a little pain. So he tries not to move too much, even as he cracks his eyes open.

Light replaces the darkness, a jumble of blurry colour at first. It gradually resolves, the features sharpening into recognizable objects. The wooden walls of the room. The thick sheets on the cotton-lined bed. Astrid, standing at his bedside, looking at him with a concerned expression.

"Did you… did you find him?" He coughs, weakly, moistening his dry mouth with a slightly less-dry tongue. His voice sounds hoarse, even to his own failing ears.

She smiles sadly at him, a wrinkled smile on what used to be skin smoother than silk. Her hair's been greying faster, recently, the gold locks of her distant youth fading to grey. Still as beautiful as ever.

"I found him lying around the house. You should know better than to leave him alone."

Astrid bends down to pick up something, bringing out a small, black stuffed dragon toy. Gently, reverently, she places it in his lap. Her battle-scarred hands clutch his old callused ones for a brief moment before letting go.

"I'll give you two some time alone."

He grabs her wrist, stopping her as she turns to go. Weakly he pulls her to him with one arm, the other arm encircling her neck. They kiss, exactly like they've done countless times in their youth, back when they'd been young and strong and full of energy. There is no urgency to it, and they just enjoy each other's presence.

Finally, they break apart.

"I love you, Astrid."

"I love you too, Hiccup."

Her hoarse voice shakes a little bit as she says it, her lip trembling, eyes glinting. She's never been one to cry.

Dimly, he hears the sound of retreating footsteps on the aged timber floor, and out onto the cobbled stone outside. The door creaks shut, and the room falls quiet. They are alone.

* * *

He turns to face his best friend.

The small stuffed dragon has disappeared. A sleek black one stands in its place, next to his bed, looking at him with luminous green eyes that match his own. Toothless hasn't changed a bit from how he remembered him.

He laughs gratingly. It's been too long.

"It's good to see you again, buddy."

Toothless only purrs in response, lowering his great head to nuzzle Hiccup's face. He's missed it so, the smooth feel of Toothless' scaly hide, the powerfully-built dragon touching him with such gentleness.

_Oh, Toothless. I've missed you. _

They stay like that, for a while, enjoying the simple touch.

"How've you been, bud?"

Toothless warbles brightly, ears perking up and tongue drooping out the side of his mouth. His gums quiver in his unique way of smiling, and the dragon pants happily like an overgrown puppy, great domed head bobbing up and down slightly. Hiccup doesn't need to understand to know what Toothless is saying.

"Really? I'm glad, then… What? You want to know everything? Heh… It's a pretty long story…"

And so he speaks, gently, raspingly, telling Toothless everything. About how the dragon raids eventually stopped, thank the gods. About how Gobber retired at the ripe old age of fifty and he took over the smithy. About how he fell in love with and married Astrid. About how his children grew up, unblemished by the horrible years of the dragon wars. About how they had the childhood he never had. About how Berk had its first peace in three hundred years and seven generations, not just a lull in the attacks, but a lasting peace. His sentences are punctuated by coughs and hacks, but he presses on despite the discomfort. He owes it to Toothless to tell him, after all.

He's rambling by the time Toothless gently bumps him with his muzzle, telling him he can stop. The room falls silent, and he becomes aware of how raw his throat is. He takes a sip from the cup at his bedside table.

Toothless is looking at him intently, large intelligent eyes fixed on his own. Waiting. Watching. Those green pools reveal nothing as they stare into him, patiently waiting for something. The seconds trickle past, laden with meaning.

He laughs, a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He never could hide anything, not from those intelligent eyes. Not from his best friend.

"It's all my fault, buddy."

"I'm so sorry bud… I tried, I really did! But after a while I couldn't see you anymore. All I saw was a stuffed dragon! And after a while... I just gave up…"

"I'm sorry I abandoned you! I'm sorry I forgot! You were – _are _– my best and oldest friend!"

The tears flow freely down his cheeks, small streams staining the linen of the bed. His voice cracks, choked by sobs, and he stops talking.

Toothless waits, patiently, as the sobs gradually die down. He composes himself, looking uncertainly into those enigmatic green eyes, unreadable as a bottomless pool. Then something softens in those eyes, and the dragon nuzzles him once more, gently licking away his drying tears, a comforting purr vibrating in a strong barrel chest. And he understands, somehow, as he's done so many times before. Understanding beyond what words could describe.

Toothless was never angry with him. That much was plain in the dragon's eyes, in his soft, undulating warbling, as the dragon brushed him ever so gently.

He'd just grown up, that was all.

And all of a sudden, a heavy weight's been taken off his chest, one he didn't realize he'd been carrying, all these long years. Forgiveness feels warm against his cheeks. The tears begin to flow afresh, as he returns the nuzzle with a weak hug.

"Thanks, buddy. For everything."

Drawing back, Toothless jerks his head over his shoulder, at the same time his tail flicks up to briefly brush the saddle on his back. Wistfully. Hopefully. Nostalgically.

Memories of happier times flood him – the rush of wind in his hair, the blast of cold in his face, Berk a distant speck on a glittering blue carpet as they soar through the clouds. Riding the winds like there was no tomorrow.

In hindsight, flying was the only thing that got him through his troubled adolescence, helped him deal with his own inadequacy. All those times before he went to sleep, soaring through the skies, clutching Toothless tightly, lost in a world all their own. A world they ruled. A world they could escape to.

Yes, flying sounds wonderful… but…

Hiccup smiles sadly.

"I'm sorry, Toothless… We're not going flying today."

He really wouldn't like anything more, than to leap on that saddle once more, to feel that familiar rush of wind, to freefall through the sky and swerve up at the last moment. But he knows that it's a journey he won't return from, and there's still Astrid and the children to think of. And it wouldn't be nice to leave before saying goodbye.

Besides, there's nothing more for him to escape from. He's no longer the scrawny underdog of the litter, no longer the scourge of the village, no longer scorned by most and ignored by all. He's happily married to the woman of his dreams, with children and grandchildren he absolutely adores. He's a blacksmith, a man of respectable craft. One whose skills are best used in times of peace, not war. One who builds rather than destroys. One who creates a new world for the next generation to grow up in.

He doesn't need to run away from life any more. His place is right here on Berk, where his family is. He is content.

It's too much to say, and he's struggling to find the words. But Toothless purrs in understanding, and the dragon gives him a long wet lick. The room is still, him lying in his bed, Toothless curled up next to him on the floor. The domed head rests on his lap, eyes closed serenely, as he strokes the smooth scales and runs his fingers over the small row of spikes on Toothless' head. They don't talk, just sit, and rest.

It's a nice feeling.

* * *

He's not sure how long it's been when he hears footsteps approaching.

"Hiccup? Someone's here to see you."

A small child runs in through the door, with an excited squeal of "Grandpa!" He can barely see Astrid standing outside with her son in-law, a tall wolf-like man with a guarded expression. So his daughter hadn't been able to make it… Probably busy with the baby again. Well, that was alright too.

The child's standing off to one side, large eyes bright and innocent as he smiles up at his beloved grandfather. He can't be more than five years old, a mop of red hair hanging low over his eyes. The boy's babbling excitedly, about trolls he saw in the forest and gnomes and whatnot. Out of all his siblings, he's the only one to have inherited Hiccup's green eyes.

And in that moment, Hiccup makes a decision.

"Bjorn… come closer." He struggles to speak, his throat aching from even this slight exertion. But the boy hears it, and obliges, moving closer to stand directly beside the single bed in the cosy house.

Gingerly, he takes the young boy's small hands in his own large one. Taking the stuffed dragon with the other, he presses the small dragon toy into the boy's open palms.

"I want you to have this." He smiles tiredly at the boy.

The child looks at it, curiously, turning the stuffed Night Fury over in his hands.

"Is it a stuffed toy, Grandpa?"

Hiccup laughs, hoarsely.

"Well, here's a secret… If you stroke him and feed him and talk to him, he'll turn into a real dragon. And he'll be your best friend for life!" The boy's jaw drops in delighted shock, his grubby hands clutching the dragon tightly to his heart.

"Wow, thanks Grandpa! I promise I won't tell!"

"You're welcome, Bjorn. Run along now, and tell your mother I said hello."

As the boy leaves, Toothless looks at Hiccup one last time, understanding reflected in those large intelligent eyes. He purrs, sadly, and gives Hiccup a last nuzzle. Hiccup closes his eyes, feeling the wetness come on again as he caresses the dragon's scaly hide.

"We had a great run, buddy, and I couldn't have asked for a better best friend. But my time's up, bud. It's time to let go of me, to continue your life, to start something anew. You can understand that… can't you?"

Toothless' only response is a low, keening purr, one of indescribable sadness and longing. Something wet drips onto him. Do dragons cry? Or is it just the wetness spilling from his eyes?

He's the one to break the contact, this time, letting his arm drop back to his side as Toothless straightens up once more. The very image of a proud, strong Night Fury - but one whose eyes are as soft and melted as yak butter. Toothless exhales, slowly, then slinks out of the room, giving him one last wavering look. Then he's gone, chasing after the small boy and father walking back to the village.

His voice is barely a whisper, as he murmurs to the empty room.

"Take care of him for me, Toothless. And give him the best adventure of his lifetime."

He relaxes, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. The pain's throbbing is at its worst yet, and he knows the gods are calling him home. He's probably not making it to Valhalla, not like his father, and he won't dine with Odin until the end of time or fight with the gods at Ragnarok. He won't go to Folkvangr, where Freyja reigns. No, he's not a warrior.

And yet, he can't really find it in himself to worry about where he's going on his next great adventure. An odd sense of peace has come over him, and he feels as though he's done saying his goodbyes, that there's nothing left tying him to this world, that he's finally ready to move on. He is ready to meet Death, not sprawled on the ground with a wound in his chest, but as an equal.

"So long… bud-dy."

The world darkens, as his vision blurs, and he knows these are his final moments.

"I'll see you again someday."

Slowly, ever so slowly, eyelids droop shut. As his mind goes blank, he can hear Toothless' distant roar, as if saying his final goodbyes.

And with that, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third let out his final breath, a gentle smile on his face.

* * *

**A/N: There's a (somewhat) logical explanation for why the dragon raids ended by themselves, though it contains spoilers for the second movie. If you want to know, PM me and I'll tell you. **

**And, at risk of sounding repetitive, do read and review! **


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